


Meanwhile

by etacanis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: myriadis, M/M, Warning: PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:37:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etacanis/pseuds/etacanis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Third Wizarding War, things don't go back to normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meanwhile

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the first theme at [. Inspired by ](http://myriadis.livejournal.com/)[Meanwhile](http://april-is.tumblr.com/post/87908501/april-23-2007-meanwhile-richard-siken) by Richard Siken.

_The start of the Third Wizarding War is most often stated as the 2nd of May, 2018 with the bombing of the Ministry of Magic. However, many believe that the third attempted assassination of Harry Potter three days prior was related._

_The exact date of the end of war is much easier to pinpoint. The newly established Order of Dumbledore - a merging of the previous groups Order Of The Phoenix and Dumbledore's Army - defeated the Dark Allegiance in Salisbury on the 30th July 2024.  
\- Excerpt from The Third Wizarding War by R. Weasley._

After the battle, after St Mungos, after medal ceremonies and after too many instances of being compared to his father, James comes home to an empty flat. He's a hero, the son of a hero, he doesn't want to be either. Dust coats every surface and clothes he hasn't worn in a long time hang in the wardrobe. The mirror whistles at him, but it's heart isn't in it. He's not surprised, not with the dark circles under his eyes, the stubble on his cheek and the newer scars. The sheets on the bed smell stale but they're soft and the bed is comfortable and that's more than enough for him.

There's a dog barking down the road, deep, loud, rumbling noises that must frustrate most of the other neighbors, but after years now of sharing tents with groups of men and the constant noise of war, it's nothing. The tree outside his bedroom still scrapes its branches along his windows, and it's almost eerie, almost as creepy as it used to be, but he's heard worse now and it's not.

He pulls the blankets higher, tucks them around his chin and doesn't know why it's a struggle to fall asleep.

 

Teddy comes back two weeks after James does, the numbers of casualties and patients finally low enough that he can come _home_ instead of crashing in an office in case they needed him. The flat's empty, but it's clean, new clothes in the wardrobe and no dust anywhere to be seen. There's beer in the fridge alongside a fresh jug of pumpkin juice and a cake from the bakery down the road. There's a note on the fridge, pink and heart shaped and covered in Lily's chicken scratch. He doesn't think about the note as he crushes it into a ball, tucks away the _Teddy's home tonight, Jamie_ to the back of his mind as he tosses it into the bin.

He cracks a beer, settles in the armchair that doesn't fit him the way it used to and stares out the window, watches the people on the pavement outside. With a lazy flick of his wand, the radio turns on, the room filling with the gentle sounds of a big band, not quite covering up the sound of the children laughing outside.

The sun is slowly setting, turning the room amber and gold and while he sits there, it's like the war never happened. Like he got older, became an adult, gradually and slowly, the way he was supposed to. 

In the lull between songs, a key turns in the front door and then he's staring at James, skinny, gaunt even, who looks like he's forgotten what sleeping is and the world is back to normal, a world where James is a soldier and Teddy watched him from afar, a world where everything is not okay.

 

Teddy eats his second bowl of cereal slowly. It tastes faintly of chocolate, it's a little too stale, and it worries at a cracked tooth. Over the sound of the crunching echoing through his skull, he can hear the shower running, the water pounding into the metal basin. It's bound to be cold now, it's been running for forty minutes.

The first time, he'd only let it go on for twenty minutes before he'd worried, before he'd knocked on a door that wasn't usually locked. He didn't get an answer. They still haven't put the door back on it's hinges. James still hasn't forgiven him, the accusations that Teddy thinks he's _not okay_ hissed in between _I just needed some time alone_.

He finishes his cereal. The charms on the sink take care of it for him, no need for him to stand there and look out over the garden but he does anyway. It's unseasonably cold for late September, with frost covering the grass. 

When the bowl is washed, he checks his watch. Fifty minutes. There's a cup of lukewarm coffee on the counter, too hot to drink when he'd made it. He thinks he'll finish that, make another, and then go and get James.

James is standing under the water when he walks in, he's staring at the tiles but his expression is blank, like he's far away, somewhere else, drowning out the sounds of something he doesn't want to hear with the quiet thunder of water.

"James," Teddy says, voice quiet and gentle as he reaches for the tap. His wrist gets splattered with water and it's freezing cold, and it's not surprising that James is shivering, body shaking in a way he doesn't seem to notice. "Come on, it's time to get out." He wraps a towel around James, big and fluffy and warm and he tucks James under his arm, pulls him in tight to share his body heat. 

It's a slow shuffle to the bedroom, a slower shuffle into warm pyjamas and eventually, James is tucked up in bed, covers around his chin to keep him warm. There's books on the night stand, just in case, but Lily will be here soon anyway. 

Teddy glances at his watch again as he straightens up. He's got ten minutes before he's due at work. It won't be the first time that he's been late.

"I'm going to work," he says, straightening his robes. His fingers trace against the emblem on the breast, the wand and the cross rough against the pads of his fingers. He thinks he'll need to leave a note for Lily, let her know that today is still a bad day. "I'll see you tonight." James nods, his Adam's apple dips as he swallows.

"Have a good day at work," he says, his voice rough. It's the first thing he's said in two days. 

 

Lily's in the living room when James gets back out of bed, settled on the sofa with a Witch Weekly and a cup of tea.

"Jamie," she says, grinning when he sits on the end of the sofa. "You're looking good." He knows he isn't. He hasn't put any weight on, whenever Teddy hugs him he's sure he's going to bruise Teddy's skin with the sharp points of his bones. The bags under his eyes look too much like bruises. His lips are chapped and peeling. "There's some food in the fridge for you. Mum made me bring it over."

"Tell her I said thank you," he says, and chokes back the feeling of annoyance. It's poisonous, he thinks, that's what Teddy said, years and years ago when their legs were too long for their bodies. Anger is poisonous. He counts the lines on his knuckles and gets to forty before he stops thinking that his mother is treating him like a child.

"She wants you to come to dinner." Lily carries on, purposefully oblivious like she always is. "You and Ted, a proper family dinner one night, yeah?"

"Teddy works a lot." He does, that's not a lie. But somehow, he's always here for James too. It's an excuse when James says it though. A reason not to see people who love him. "I think he'll get a promotion soon."

"Yeah? We'll celebrate." Lily's grinning, standing up off of the sofa and brushing biscuit crumbs from her jeans. "Hey, Jamie, do you feel up to going out today? I've got some stuff I need to do." He bites his lip, gnaws it till it hurts and he's back again and not _out there_. Lily's not staring at him, she's glancing out of the window behind his head. It's nice that she remembers he doesn't like to be stared at. Teddy forgets, sometimes, and stares at him like he's trying to see through him.

"Not Diagon Alley," he says. He clenches his fists, digs the nails into his palms. He releases them. "I don't want to go there."

" _Duh_." Lily rolls her eyes, flicks her hair over her shoulder. "It's shitty there anyway." She works there, in a little shop, Teddy calls it a _boutique_ , selling jewelry a friend makes, she's worked there since August. It's very normal. She loves it, Teddy says. She doesn't tell James anything anymore. 

 

Teddy's curled up in the middle of the bed, fast asleep when James gets back. He's still in his work clothes, the sleeves of his robes tangled around his hands and he doesn't even murmur in his sleep when James settles next to him, knees touching against Teddy's but no closer than that.

He hasn't _looked_ at Teddy in a long time. Before the end, they'd had snippets of time, moments spent together in between battles, not enough time to talk and not enough time to _look_. The last time he did have a chance, Teddy's hair had been teal, spiked at the front and short in the back. Now it's brown, slicked back and professional. He's lost his freckles too, the golden shine of summer from his skin even though they're not even close to winter. 

His hand hovers in the space between them, unsure and shaking, boundaries in his mind where there never used to be. He lets his hand fall, twists his fingers in the bed sheet between them.

"I'm sorry," he says, but he doesn't make a sound. His mouth shapes the words, over and over, willing them, forcing them into existence. "I love you." It's true, it's always has been true, and he's never been able to say it, not even when he was young and reckless and stupid.

"Hey," Teddy mumbles, his eyes fluttering open, his lashes tracking his skin. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yeah," James says, out loud this time, because that's _easy_. 

"Do you want some dinner?" Teddy's voice is quiet, like he's got a headache. James wants to reach out, massage Teddy's temples for him like he used to. He clenches the sheet in his fist.

"Yeah." Teddy smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. James watches him as he stands up, his eyes following him across the room, and he wishes he could make things be the way they used to.

 

Teddy smokes in the garden every night, sits on the steps and stares at the stars and makes his way through most of a pack.

It helps, a little.

He hears the back door creak behind him, tilts his head back until he's looking at James, upside down. He used to smile, randomly, for no discernible reason, but now his expression is blank.

"I think I'm going to have some good days. I've decided," he says, sitting down on the stairs, as far away from Teddy as he can get in the tiny little space. "That's what you and Lily call them, isn't it?"

"Yep," Teddy says, and lights another cigarette. He uses a muggle lighter, a habit he picked up in tent on the edge of a battlefield and one he's not learned to lose yet. 

"I got angry at her today." James looks at the ground when he talks, and Teddy looks back to the stars. "For a really stupid reason."

"Oh?" Inhale, exhale, the slow burn of smoke in his lungs grounds him.

"She mentioned someone called Jenny, not, not anyone I know, but -" James takes a deep breath, mirrors Teddy's breathing pattern for a second. "But I knew a Jenny and I saw her die."

"What did she say?" He pauses to bite back a yawn."Lily."

"She apologized," James says. "Like she knew it would happen and just fucked up and I felt like an arse." Teddy doesn't say anything and neither does James. He finishes his cigarette in the silence, stubs it out on the concrete and debates another.

"Nobody expects anything from you," he says, fumbling a cigarette from the packet. "We understand." It's James' turn not to reply, he tucks his arms around his knees and digs his heels into the dirt.

"Can I kiss you?" He says, halfway through Teddy's third cigarette of the night. It's a mirror of the first time, reversed, because it had been Teddy talking to his knees that time. Years ago now, a lifetime it feels like, but Teddy still remembers it. 

"You'd be an idiot not to."

It isn't the end, Teddy realizes, with shaking hands tracing the shape of his jaw. It's just begun.


End file.
